


Return to Oz

by duckgirlie



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-14
Updated: 2012-02-14
Packaged: 2017-10-31 04:12:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/339754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duckgirlie/pseuds/duckgirlie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a chance meeting at an art gala, Robert Fischer starts to dream of things that seem slightly too real to be forgotten. He dreams of rain, and snow, and gunshots, and it's keeping him up at night. But then he meets a woman who tells him that she can fix his dreams for him, if only he trusts her.</p><p>Meanwhile, the team from the Fischer job are scattered back across the world, continuing with life as best they can when you've already achieved the impossible. But there's no such thing as 'done and dusted' when you're stealing from the most powerful people in the world, and sometimes retirement doesn't keep you safe for very long.</p><p>Cobb wants to protect his new-found freedom, Arthur wants to protect Cobb from any more stupid risks. Ariadne wants a different perspective on dreaming, Saito wants to protect his investment, Eames just wants to put this whole fucking thing to bed at last. And Robert? Robert just wants to know the truth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Return to Oz

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2nd round of the Inception Big Bang. Still not entirely sure this ended up the way I wanted it too, but the time has come.

Eames’ mother got six nights a year in exchange for no questions about the other three hundred and forty nine.

That night, he was accompanying her to a benefit for art or culture or some combination of the two. There were people there he recognised, but he wasn't worried – most of them had never seen his actual face, and even if they had, they had far more to lose then he did – so he followed her dutifully around the room and nodded at all the people he was expected to before ducking outside for a cigarette.

He didn't even smoke it, not really, instead letting the smoke curl from the end of his Marlboro as he took a few tiny drags. It was mostly just an excuse for a brief moment alone before he returned to his mother's side and the role of slighty wayward son.

There was no bin around, and because old habits die hard, he carefully stubbed out the cigarette against the bottom of his shoe and slid the end into his pocket before heading back inside. He was just about to rejoin the crowd when something started pricking at his peripheral vision. He took a step back to the edge of the room to observe the crowd.

Nothing. 

This job does tend to instill a certain amount of paranoia.

Eames did another quick sweep of the room to confirm the lack of danger before ducking back out into the hallway. Paranoid he may be, but it never hurts to keep on top of things. He had his phone open to call in a check on the area when the source of his unease slid out of his peripheral vision and straight into his eyeline.

Robert Fischer was six feet away, and looking at Eames like he'd seen him before.

\- - - - -

_  
“But if we're stealing ideas, what happens when the mark wakes up?” Ariadne asked._

_“They don't remember,” said Eames._

_“We add something to the Somnacin – just their Somnacin – that prohibits the formation of memories. So that we remember what we found, but they don't.” Yusuf added._

_“So he won't remember anything?”_

_Yusuf and Eames exchanged a look._

_“That's the plan, anyway,” said Eames. “You can never be 100% when it comes to the subconscious. Some people are just naturally good at remembering their dreams. Some people have been trained into having higher recall even under mixed Somnacin.”_

_“So when we wake up, he might remember us? Remember what we were doing down there?”_

_“There's a possibility, yeah. But Yusuf's the best. If someone can remember their dreams when he doesn't want them to, then nothing else we do is going to make them forget.”_

_“But I wouldn't be worried,” said Yusuf. “There's nothing to indicate we're dealing with a trained mind.”_

\- - - - -

Eames schooled his face into the blank smile people expect at these kind of things and pulled his eyes away from Fischer as soon as politeness would allow.

His mother was waiting at the bar when he returned. 

“Darling, you've got that look on your face that says I'm about to be a very unhappy and abandoned woman.”

He grinned and pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. “Believe me when I say it is of the utmost importance that I exit immediately. And I'm sure you shall find no end of willing people to fetch you drinks and agree with your opinions all night.”

“Fine, fine. Leave. I still expect you at Christmas. I'll have your chairs set aside, there'll only be a big empty space at the table if you don't come.”

He kissed her cheek and grinned again. “You're incorrigible. And I shall try my very best.”

Eames waited in front of the gallery for a car, absent-mindedly running a poker chip between his fingers. He'd only just managed to release the last of the tension from his shoulders when Robert Fischer strolled back into view. 

After a brief exchange with the valet, he turned to Eames and quirked an eyebrow.

“I'm sorry, but have we met before?”

Eames crossed his arm over his face to scratch his ear.

“I don't think so.”

“I suppose all the faces tend to blend together at these things.”

“I suppose.”

Luckily, his car arrived, and with a tiny, face-obscuring nod, Eames slid into the back seat.

“Heathrow.”

His mother could send his bags on after him.

\- - - - -

There was snow.

There was snow, and he was out of breath.

There was snow, and he was out of breath, and he didn't know where he was going but he knew he had to get there as fast as possible.

There was snow, and then he fell, and when he hit the ground for just a moment, there was a hotel.

Robert Fischer woke up in his thousand thread count sheets, soaked in sweat.

He couldn't get back to sleep.

It was the third time that week.

\- - - - -

_robert fischer was at the gala. there was a moment where he might have recognised me but couldnt tie it to anything specific – e_

_Are we going to have a problem? – A_

_dont think so just wanted to give the heads up – e_

_I'll keep an eye out. You'll be in Sao Paulo, right? – A_

_of course – e_.

\- - - - -

“Robert? Robert?”

Uncle Peter leaned across to snap his fingers in front of Robert's eyes. He jumped.

“What?”

“I think the breakup of your father's company might warrant a little more attention than you're giving it at the moment.”

Could he detect a hint of bitterness? Or was he reading into things? There was an indefinable _something_ in the air between them since Robert had come to him with his plans to break up the Fischer Morrow empire, but Robert couldn't put his finger on which side it was coming from. His godfather seemed as supportive and helpful as always, but there was a gap there – something was missing ever since his father's funeral.

“I'm sorry. I just – I haven't been sleeping well lately.”

“Are you okay? Do you want to push the meetings back, I can make some –”

“No, no,” Robert waved him off. “I want this done. It's just some strange dreams, that's all. They'll pass.”

Something in Uncle Peter sharpened slightly. “Dreams? What kind of dreams?”

“Just... dreams. I'm in the snow, and I'm running, but –”

“Running away from something?”

“More like running _towards_ something, I think.” Robert shoved his fingers through his hair and leaned back over his folder. “Look, I don't know what they're about. Can we just get back to this? There's a –”

“Give me a minute. I've got a call to make.”

Uncle Peter already had his phone out as he left the room.

\- - - - -

Even after his return Peter had been distracted, and the meeting had broken up soon afterwards. Robert found himself alone in his office, absent-mindedly doodling a rain-soaked street in the margins of his reports.

Whatever it was that was doing this to him, he had to shake it off. It couldn't keep affecting his work like this, affecting the company – or what was to be left of it. He needed to pull himself together.

He took two Ambien before bed, and looked in the mirror and forbade himself to dream of snow.

\- - - - -

There was rain.

There was rain, and there were gunshots, and then there was screaming and darkness.

\- - - - -

Robert didn't know where his morning appointments had gone, or why there was a large blank section taking up most of his morning. His secretary merely shrugged and said that 'Mr. Browning moved some things around, he said you wouldn't mind, I can get him on the phone if you want –' but Robert shook her off and closed the office door behind him. His tea and the newspapers were waiting for him, and he had just started in on the business page’s speculation about Fischer Morrow's plans when there was a knock on his door.

“I'm scheduled for nothing, Maria!”

Instead of an answer from his secretary, a woman walked through the door. She was slightly above average height, with short, neat brown hair and a perfectly-tailored suit.

“Your new appointment is with me, Mr. Fischer. I apologise for the secrecy, but in my line of work discretion is worth perhaps even more then money.”

She approached the desk, set her briefcase – a heavy metal affair like the kind used to transport precious gems – by the desk and held out her hand.

“Pleased to meet you. Again, of course, but I doubt you remember the first time.”

Her grip was firm, and she shook his hand twice before taking a seat.

Robert looked towards the door again, expected Uncle Peter to join them, but when he didn't appear, he turned back to the woman.

“And what can I do for you, Ms...?”

“Kate.”

“Kate...”

She smiled evenly. “Just Kate.”

“In your line of work, last names are worth more then discretion?”

“More. Or less. Depending on how you value them.”

She didn't continue, just steepled her fingers together and regarded him over them.

He leaned back in his chair and looked at her with the same measure of contemplation. This, at least, was a game he knew how to play.

Finally, Kate dropped her hands to the arms of her chair.

“You don't remember me, Mr. Fischer, but we've met on several occasions.”

“I'm pretty sure I'd reme –”

“Don't try for flattery. You don’t remember me because you are not _supposed_ to remember me. We met several times, but only in your dreams. I was the one who – 'installed' doesn't quite do it justice, but it'll do for now – I installed your subconscious security.”

Robert looked at her for a long moment, trying to scrape out the corners of his memory and place her somewhere. She wasn't there, but the mention of dream security brought someone else to mind.

“You must be mistaken. My subconscious security was done by someone else. A Mr. Charles.”

A slow smile spread across Kate's face and she leaned back into her chair.

“Is that so, Mr. Fischer?” 

She pulled a photograph out of her inside pocket, and laid it out on the desktop. The picture showed a sandy-haired man, probably in his mid-thirties, wearing loose-fitting wrinkled clothes and looking at something out of frame like he knew he was being watched.

“Let me tell you a story. Stop me if anything feels familiar.”

\- - - - -

Even with that many millions in his back pocket, Yusuf's life hadn't changed much since the Fischer job. The few new pieces of equipment, some partial re-wiring and a moderately expanded flat due to buying out his annoying neighbours were different, but apart from that things had continued pretty much the same as before. He'd let it be known across various networks that he was still available for jobs, but that he was never, ever leaving Mombasa again and was fairly confident that from this point on his interactions with the dream crime community would be limited to point men and the occasional extractor who could be bothered to drag themselves to Africa to get specialised compounds.

He didn't mind if he barely saw any of them again. It's not like he needed the money. Or the stress.

One morning, less then eight months after the job, he was sitting in his shop, fiddling with some glassware, when the door creaked.

Kate stepped into the shop, and Yusuf's hands tightened around his pipette.

She smiled and walked into the store, running a careful hand over some of the jars on the counter.

“Don't be like that. I'd almost thing you weren't glad to see me.”

“Glad isn't exactly the word I'd use, Kate. Why are you here?”

Kate carefully pulled off her jacket and laid it over a chair. “I'm hiring you.”

“I don't think so.”

“Really?” She glanced around the room. “Don't tell me you don't need the money. Which will be excellent, by the way.”

“I don't work in the field anymore. If you want to buy something the–”

“Yusuf. We could play that game where I lean over your desk to subtly reveal I'm carrying, but that's just tedious. You know I have a gun. You probably also know that if I wanted to shoot you, not even your dental records would identify you. I need your compounds. In deduction my usual chemist is second to none, but he lacks your inventiveness. So let's move past that. I am hiring you, and you are not objecting.”

“Why me?”

Kate sat down in one of his chairs and spread her hands. “Don't be humble, Yusuf. I like to work with the best.”

“What's the job?”

At this, Kate's face hardened. “One of my former clients has had his mind breached. Something has been taken, something I can only imagine to be without definable value. We are going to find out what that was.”

“You want to extract from an extractor.”

Kate stood up and pulled her jacket back on. “And the penny drops. I'm sure a man of your talents will have little difficulty in creating a compound that will counteract the advantages an experienced dreamer will have in defending themself. I will see you in Paris before the week is over.”

Just before she exited, Yusuf called after her. “Who's the mark?”

Kate paused for a second, as if considering how much information to reveal.

“You haven't worked with Dominic Cobb before, have you?”

Yusuf kept his face very still. “No.”

“Excellent. Then we won't have a problem with misplaced loyalty. Paris in a week, Yusuf. I shall be waiting.”

The second she was gone, Yusuf jumped from his seat and ran to the window. He waited until she'd turned the corner, counted to ten, then ran straight back to his desk and his laptop.

_EMERGENCY – Y_

\- - - - -

Ariadne was the first to arrive, and Yusuf met her at the airport.

“This is all a little cloak-and-dagger, isn't it? Why couldn't you tell us over the phone?”

He glanced around before ushering her into a waiting taxi. 

“It's not safe. Someone could be listening.”

“Couldn't Arthur set up a secure channel? And if we're being listened to, what's to say we aren't being watched as well?”

“Not secure enough. And that's why you're all arriving separately. Eames has a flat in the city – it won't be suspicious if he's in town. If anyone sees Arthur it's because I'm finishing a consult before departing for my next job, and impressive as your work may be, it's not yet well-known enough for you to raise eyebrows.”

“Is it that serious?”

“It is very serious. There’s no reason to suspect me yet, so I have every hope that these precautions will end up being unnecessary but safety is paramount. We're here.”

The car pulled up outside a crowded apartment building, and Yusuf quickly paid the driver before shuffling her inside.

“Stay away from the windows. I know I said you'd probably go unnoticed, but...”

“Safety is paramount, yeah. I get it. When's everyone else getting here?”

“Eames is taking the train from Nairobi, and Arthur is on another flight. They should both be here in the early morning.”

“What about Cobb?”

“Not yet.”

She turned to stare at him. “I thought you said it was about him?”

“It is. But he _would_ set off alarms here. If it's necessary, we can get in contact with him.”

He pushed aside a pile of papers on the couch. “I'll make tea.”

\- - - - -

Ariadne woke up the next morning to a loud crash and a louder “Sorry! Forgot that was there.”

She pulled on her clothes and ran into the kitchen to find Arthur sitting at the table carefully sipping tea, and Eames on the counter, inspecting a large gash on his shin.

“You know, this wouldn't keep happening if you didn't insist on wearing shorts.”

“Darling, it's nearly 30 degrees over here. And unlike your robotic self, I was born with sweat glands and the ability to get heat stroke, so you'll forgive me if I make concessions to the weather.”

“I have no idea what concessions you think you're making with corduroy shorts, but rest assured they're not coming across.”

“You've got a tan.” Ariadne said without thinking.

“I do, yes.” replied Arthur. “Despite what Eames would have you believe, I am entirely human, and therefore capable of responding to the sun much like anyone else.”

“It's just... odd.”

“Isn't it just?” Eames agreed. “Arthur here has been lazing about, enjoying his Cobb-less days, and getting himself into quite the state of non-professionalism. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was capable of enjoying himself in entirely frivolous activities.”

Ariadne glanced over at Arthur for his reply, but he just rolled his eyes and changed the subject.

“Once Yusuf gets back from the store, we'll see what it is that's gotten him in such a state. And then we can get things sorted out, and I can be on the next plane out of here.”

“I'm afraid it's not going to be that simple,” Yusuf appeared in the corner. “I think Robert Fischer knows someone's been in his dreams.”

The three of them froze for a second. 

Arthur yanked his phone out of his pocket and dialed something before setting it down on the table. A couple of seconds later, Cobb's tired voice emerged from the speaker.

“What the fuck? It's 4am.”

“There's been a breech,” Arthur replied, glaring at Yusuf. “If I'd known the _exact nature_ of the situation, I would have insisted that you be here.”

“What happened?” All traces of sleep were gone from Cobb's voice. “How bad?”

Arthur looked back at Yusuf.

“It's not as bad as it could be – I don't think they even know inception's possible, so they think it was just an extraction, but they don't know what information was stolen. You're about to become the target of an extraction.”

“How could he know?” Ariadne asked.

“It's not impossible,” Cobb said. “Sometimes there's a trigger built into militarisations, something could have set it off, had him remember the dreams, even if he didn't remember the context.”

Arthur glared at Eames, who threw his hands up. “How was I supposed to know he'd be there? And even if – if we hadn't run Mr. Charles on the second level, he probably wouldn't even remember that it was a constructed dream, so –”

“ _Enough_ ,” Cobb shouted over the phone. “That's not going to help. What's our timeline?”

“I have to be in Paris by Sunday,” Yusuf said.

There was the sound of shuffling papers from Cobb's end. “I can probably make it to Europe by Thursday, that gives us a couple of days to get a handle on things before you have to – Who's running the job?”

Yusuf glanced around the room before answering. “It's Kate.”

Ariadne noticed a definite tensing of the atmosphere.

“ _Fuck_. Okay. I'll be in Calais by Tuesday morning. I trust you can all make it there without calling attention to yourselves?”

“It won't be a problem.”

Cobb rang off and Yusuf's kitchen was silent for a moment.

Ariadne looked around the room. “Who's Kate?”

The three men exchanged glances.

“Kate is...” Eames trailed off.

“Kate is the anti-Cobb,” Yusuf finished. “Sort of.”

“That's a flawed comparison, because it implies that Kate is mentally stable, which is frankly a dicey bet at the best of times,” Eames pointed out.

“She's like –”

“She militarises people,” Arthur cut Yusuf off. “Extremely well.”

“Yeah. She's like the Alcatraz of militarisation. No, she's the – who designed Alcatraz?” Eames asked.

“Major Reuben Turne,.” Ariadne answered immediately. “But the big deal with Alcatraz is the location, so plate tectonics did all the hard work.”

“Fine, she's the plate tectonics of militarisation.”

“Except that Alcatraz keeps people in, and she keeps people out,” said Yusuf. “A more fitting analogy would be with Fort Knox, but even then –”

“Enough,” Arthur slammed his mug down on the table. “This is really not the time.”

He stormed out of the kitchen. Ariadne and Yusuf's eyes slid over to Eames.

“What? He'll be fine, just give him a minute.”

Five minutes ticked by in silence before Aridne coughed and looked over at the door again.

Eames rolled his eyes and got to his feet.

“I hope you both know I'll be back here in five seconds.”

In Yusuf's tiny living room, Arthur was staring at the wall and tapping a pen off his lower lip. Eames deliberately stepped on the dodgy floorboard to announce his presence, and lifted his hands.

“Look, I know, but they were getting all... them, I'll just go right back –”

Arthur spun around and cut him off. “Do you think you could get on her team?”

“What?”

“Do you. Think you. Could get. On her team,” Arthur repeated himself carefully.

Eames rolled his eyes. “She works with the best, I am the best. But there's just that little something standing in the way – she knows I hate her.”

“No, she doesn't.”

“She really does.”

“No, she doesn't,” Arthur looked him dead in the eyes. “She knows _I_ hate her. It doesn't automatically follow that you do too.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. I have... I have an idea. But I need access to her team.”

“Yusuf –”

“Doesn't go into the field enough, it'll be suspicious if he gets too involved. And besides, we'll need more then just one person. But she knows you, you've worked together – worked together _successfully_.”

“She knows I work with you.”

“Then we'll just have to change her perception of that, won't we? Or don't you think you can do it?”

Eames rolled his eyes again. “Appealing to my professional vanity is a low blow.”

For the first time since they'd entered Yusuf's apartment, Arthur's lips twisted in a tiny grin.

“I use the tools I'm given. And that one always works.”

\- - - - -

In Calais, Eames took a cab to the tiny house Arthur had obtained. It was only going to be a couple of days before they left again, but Arthur was afraid a number of separate hotel rooms would raise eyebrows this time of the off-season, and had found them somewhere before anyone had the chance to point out that renting an entire house for a week was both difficult and excessive.

Yusuf was already in the kitchen when he arrived, surrounded by sheets and sheets of paper covered in his tiny jagged script. So far, he was the only one at risk – Eames and Ariadne and Arthur could fade away until it was over, and even Cobb had enough connections to keep him safe if he wanted to call in some risky favours – but Yusuf was already hired, already marked.

Eames made them tea, because that's what one does in a crisis.

Ariadne was next, her hair combed neatly over her forehead and her scarf and coat collar obscuring half her face. She took the cup of tea he offered but didn't drink it, instead rattling her spoon against the side until he had to reach across and still her hands.

She smiled weakly. “I'm sorry. I just...”

Eames shook his head. “Nobody expects you to be good at this part this quickly, you know?”

“Arthur probably does.”

“Arthur used to expect perfection out of the box. Now he has enough scars to know that that means taking too many risks, and he's adjusted his expectations accordingly.”

She smiled again and sipped her tea.

It was late before Arthur arrived, sweeping in and depositing a pile of folders on the table while Yusuf scrabbled to clear up his own papers. He ignored the kettle and pile of clean cups Eames pointed out and just finishing the contents of Eames' cup before sitting down at the head of the table.

“As far as I can tell, Kate's still working with Stephanie. She listens to gossip, which will be useful.”

“Shouldn't we wait for Cobb?” Ariadne asked.

Eames and Arthur exchanged a look. “Cobb's barely worked with Kate before. He doesn't need to be here except for the specific planning. I'll brief him on the tangential details as they become relevant.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Eames patted Ariadne on the shoulder before leaning back in his chair to consider.

“You definitely want to go the whole double-agent line?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and started speaking deliberately. “We need to know more about what she's up to than she'll share with Yusuf.”

“Why won't she share with Yusuf?” Ariande pulled herself up in her seat.

“Yusuf's an unknown quantity. She doesn't know him enough to trust him beyond the specific parameters of the job, and even then, she only knows that he doesn't like being shot. We need someone she knows enough to think she has a read on their actions, enough to make her more willing to share.” Arthur said.

“And what, she knows one of you like that?” She asked.

Eames tilted his head to the side. “Well, she knows Arthur enough to know that there's no way in hell he'd voluntarily put himself in the same room as her. She knows me well enough – or thinks she does, at least, which is enough for now – that my loyalties are negotiable, and based at least forty percent on spite.”

Ariadne frowned for a second. “That's what we're counting on? Spite?”

“We're counting on Kate's actual spite lining up neatly with Eames' perceived spite. She likes revenge enough that I don't think it's too big a risk to play on it here.”

“By ‘she likes revenge’ he means ‘she hates Arthur,’ Eames pointed out.

“So, what? You'll tell her you've had a fight? Why's that such a big deal?”

“Believe me when I tell you that Arthur and I can fake ‘had a fight’ enough to convince her that I'll do _anything_ to fuck him over.”

“And in this case ‘anything’ would be help her break into the mind of my former collaborator in order to steal information that could very well end up with both myself and Dom being killed,” said Arthur.

“That's a lot of spite,” Ariadne said.

“We can only hope,” Eames agreed.

\- - - - -

Cobb was late, as ever, but the topic of conversation had barely moved on. He arrived in a flurry of coat tails and yet more paper.

“We need to contact Saito,” he announced before he even sat down.

“You really think he's going to want to implicate himself in a situation where he's just committed massi –”

Cobb cut Arthur off. “Hear me out. Kate probably already suspects Saito was the client – he's the person who has the most to gain from a change in Fischer Morrow's business practises. If we – Eames – can convince her that I'm not the best target for an extraction, which I'm sure he can manage –”

“Shouldn't be difficult,” Eames agreed.

“Then he's the best option for her to get the information she wants. But if he's already aware of an upcoming attempt, then we can work with him to both prevent Kate from being able to extract his actual actions and motives, and more importantly, _we can plant false information_ to prevent her from ever discovering exactly what went on.”

Eames and Arthur exchanged another glance. “That actually might work.”

Cobb rolled his eyes and poured himself a cup of tea. “I used to be brilliant, remember? I haven't completely lost it.”

\- - - - -

It was nearly three am before they left the kitchen. Cobb, Ariadne and Yusuf left to collapse in various sleeping quarters, but Eames watched Arthur walk into the garden and followed him.

He was leaning against the wall outside, staring into the night. Eames slid up next to him and offered him a Pall Mall White, lighting it before Arthur could object.

He took a few drags, exhaling deeply, before talking.

“You want to bring Ariadne with you.”

“How did you guess?”

Arthur smirked, his eyes still on the garden, and inhaled again. “You only give me cigarettes when you're about to do something you think I'll say no to.”

“I'll have to stop that. I hate to be predictable.”

They stood in silence for a moment longer, before Arthur stubbed out his cigarette against the wall and turned to Eames. “Why?”

“You know how Kate works. She's going to want to try and get whatever dream we build as close to whatever tiny scraps Fischer remembers as possible. If it's Ariadne ‘designing’ it, then you don't have to worry about twists and turns and secret passageways, we'll just use the exact some architecture. Which leaves one more person we have who can pay more attention to Kate then to what their actual job is, and one less person on Kate's team to keep an eye out for things going wrong.”

“Sounds like you've got it all figured out.”

“No need to sound so surprised.”

Arthur shifted again so he was staring back out into the garden and across the countryside.

“You're not worried about her? Before Ariadne met us, she'd never so much as shoplifted some nail varnish and you want to introduce her to Kate?”

Eames thought about Kate, with her broken but black-and-white sense of morality, and her way of ripping apart anything that didn't meet requirements, and about Ariadne, with her coat pulled up around her ears like that could stop someone finding her if they really wanted to to. 

“I think she can handle it.”

“I'm sure you do.”

Eames lit Arthur one more cigarette as his eyelids started to droop. He held it up to to Arthur's lips, and Arthur glared at Eames like he was breaking the rules but took a drag anyway.

“What makes you think you can get Kate to take on an unknown architect for a job this major?”

Eames grinned. “Spite can play both sides, pet.”

\- - - - -

The night before Yusuf left for Paris, Arthur handed Eames a few sheets of paper.

“Jonsi's in town, I think tonight might be our best bet.”

Eames glanced over the papers. “Did you _script_ the fight?”

Arthur almost blushed for a split second, before hitting Eames with his own paper. 

“It needs to be convincing.”

“I am _very_ convincing off-the-cuff.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You have to be the right kind of convincing. Like you're genuinely angry with me instead of just a little annoyed.”

Eames gave the script a closer look. “So this is your professional opinion of what we might fight about? The kind of thing that would get me so riled up that I'd immediately go out and offer _Kate_ the chance to fuck you over royally?”

“Exactly.”

He folded up the sheet of paper and shoved it into his pocket. “I'll give this a look-over then. But before we have our crushing and destructive –”

“That's a little redundant.”

“ _Crushing and destructive_ fight, there's something I want to run past you tonight.”

“We don't have much time. Jonsi's arms drop will have him back in the pub for nine.”

Eames laughed. “And the pub will have Jonsi for quite a while after that. We'll have plenty of time. Just dress warmly and try not to look too angry.”

Arthur looked at him for a second, before shrugging and sitting down to study his own script. “Fine.”

Eames grinned. “See you around half seven. Don't be too worried now.”

Arthur scoffed. “Like I could be.”

\- - - - -

By the time that evening rolled around, Eames was half-convinced Arthur would have forgotten. But when he wandered into the kitchen at exactly half seven, Arthur was there, in a coat and a scarf and waterproof boots.

Eames glanced down at the choice of footwear. “Wherever do you think I'm taking you?”

Arthur looked down at Eames' shoes. “You said 'dress warmly'. How am I supposed to know what you're planning on doing? For all I know, you want to intercept Jonsi's arms drop and we're going to end up up to our knees in sand before the night's over.”

Eames laughed and pulled his own coat on. “We're not intercepting an arms drop. If I want a gun, I'll go to Tom and Jeff like any sensible person. And I already have a gun, Cobb has a gun, you wouldn't use a different gun unless your life depended on it, and Ariadne and probably Yusuf wouldn't know what do with a gun if their lives did. We're just going for a little walk.”

Outside, the day had almost fully dropped away, leaving the sky dark and shining as they walked along the outskirts of the town. Arthur's feet slowed as they approached their destination.

“What's wrong?”

Arthur looked up at the church, one eyebrow raised. “You know I'm Jewish, right? And that I don't even go to temple with my mom anymore?”

Eames smiled and ushered Arthur inside. “Trust me on this one, okay?”

He carefully lead Arthur inside, and sat them both in the last pew. Arthur looked around the room suspiciously before finally relaxing slightly.

“I still have no idea wha –”

“Shh...” Eames cut him off and gestured to the front of the church, where the choir were just fixing themselves into position. The choir master clapped his hands and seconds later, the opening strains of ‘Bogoroditse Devo’ filtered through the church.

Next to Eames, Arthur stiffened for a brief moment, his eyes darting to Eames' face, before he relaxed and leaned forward, watching the front of the church in silence. Eames smiled to himself and sat back in his pew.

\- - - - -

After the choir had finished practising, Eames and Arthur stayed put in their pew until they had all shuffled out, and until the priest started towards them to ask them to leave. Eames gave him a quick nod and smile before grabbing Arthur's elbow and leading him outside. 

They walked in silence for a moment, letting the air pass around them as they headed into town to find whatever pub Jonsi was celebrating in. About halfway there, Arthur stopped and swung around. 

“Who told you I liked Rachmaninov?”

Eames looked at him for a second. “You did.”

“I don't think so.”

“I don't know then. Maybe it's obvious.”

“Really? What else is obvious?”

“About you in general, or you and music?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. “Music.”

“You like Souza.”

“Why? Because I'm American?”

“No, because you're a marine who likes shooting things and hates being recorded,” Eames grinned.

“That's very obvious, isn't it? I might as well assume you like Parry.”

Eames rolled his eyes. “ _Of course_ I like Parry. Parry's exquisite, I mean –”

He broke off from speaking to hum the opening bars of ‘Jerusalem’, his arms flung wide.

“Completely, yeah?” He continued. “But what's the problem? There's nothing wrong with Rachmaninov.”

He ushered Arthur into the pub. “Try and look like you've been dealing with low levels of annoyance for the whole day, okay? I know it'll be hard.”

Arthur glared and sat down at a table. Eames grabbed them drinks at the bar, sat next to him and let his legs fall open, one knee pressed against Arthur's. He leaned over until they were practically pressed against each other.

“What are you doing?” Arthur hissed.

“I'm encroaching on your personal space in a public place because _anyone who's ever met you_ knows you hate that, and I'm trying to piss you off.”

“ _Fine_.”

Arthur glared at Eames again and pulled his glass towards himself. He knocked back a mouthful before letting his eyes scan the crowd to make sure Jonsi was there. He finally saw him at the end of the bar, scanning the crowd himself.

Arthur subtly elbowed Eames in the side and coughed.

“So you've finished your initial run through?”

Arthur's voice was pitched just enough to be heard over the bustle of activity in the room, without sounding like he was trying to be heard. Eames was impressed. He ignored him.

Arthur glared. “ _I said_ have you finished your initial run through?”

Eames looked up at him. Arthur had clearly shifted into the pre-written argument, but Eames flashed his mind back to the lines and shrugged.

“Yeah, it's all done. Why?”

Arthur looked at him sharply. That hadn't been the next line. 

“You're sure? You've finished the whole thing? Nothing's going to trip us up?”

Eames rolled his eyes. “You want something that's going to fuck this job over, take a look at your friend.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your new extractor. I mean, I know you're a little desperate and lost since Cobb left you, but you can probably do a little better, yeah? Don't just go hopping into bed with the first person who flashes you a smile. Metaphorically speaking. Of course.”

Eames could see Arthur bristle at the slightly-too-long pause. 

“I don't know what you're trying to do, but can we stick to the script please?” Arthur had dropped his voice below the hum of the crowd again, but Eames kept on ignoring him.

“Of course I'm ready to go, I'm fucking brilliant. It's the two of you you should be worried about, yeah? I'm surprised he can tell his left from his right most days, and you... Well...”

“Yes?”

There was a cold sharpness in Arthur's voice now, and Eames tried to flash him a reassuring signal with his eyes before downing the rest of his drink.

“No offense mate, but you've gotten a little sloppy. I know it's not easy now you've no one to hold your hand any more. Makes sense of course, why you stuck with him for so long, even after he... Well, I know he's your friend, but still. You're well shot of him, I imagine. Just need to ease yourself back into the game right? Maybe this was a little tough for your first time out of the gate without your training wheels on. It'll be good for you. You hardly want to spend your whole life shackled to a murde –”

Eames didn't get to finish the sentence, because Arthur had punched him in the face and stormed out. He got up carefully and made his way over to the bar, dropping two fifty euro notes in front of the bartender.

“Leave the bottle.”

\- - - - -

Yusuf got to Paris early on Sunday morning and wasn't surprised to find Kate waiting for him, even though he hadn't told her any details about his arrival.

“Is everyone else here already?”

“The rest of the team is still being assembled. Cobb worked with a lot of people, ensuring anyone we work with doesn't have any lingering loyalties, and is up to the job, is taking considered effort.”

Yusuf was glad his heavy winter jacket hid the set of his shoulders as they relaxed slightly.

“I may have a suggestion for you.”

Kate pulled the passenger door open for him before sliding into the driver's seat herself. “Hmm?”

“You'll need a forger, right?”

“Probably. Who do you have in mind?”

“Eames.”

Kate laughed as she pulled out into traffic. “Not likely.”

“Why not? He's the best.”

“Best he may be, but I don't think he'd take the job.”

Yusuf twisted his bag strap in his hands. “You didn't give me much of a choice.”

“Ah, but you, Yusuf, are irreplaceable. There are other forgers, not quite to his standard, but they will suffice.”

“All I know is, eight months ago, Eames left Mombasa to do a job with Cobb. It has to be the job you're talking about, Cobb hasn't worked since. He wasn't happy when he got back.”

Kate looked thoughtful for a second, then shrugged. “I'd like to finish this job without a bullet in my back, thanks.”

\- - - - -

Kate's pointwoman was tiny and blonde and tapping away at a laptop when they entered.

“Yusuf, Stephanie. Stephanie, Yusuf.”

She looked up with a wide grin.

“Jonsi says Arthur and Eames got into a fistfight last night.”

Kate's eyes flashed over to Yusuf, who shrugged.

“Who won?”

“Arthur.”

“What happened?”

Stephanie glanced down at her screen again. “Didn't say. He was in Calais for an arms drop, and he was having a quick pint when he saw them. They were arguing about music, or something, then they just started screaming at each other and then Arthur punched Eames in the face and walked out.”

“What did Eames do?”

“Last Jonsi saw, he was knocking back half a bottle of whiskey and heading out the door.”

Kate clapped her hands together. “Sounds about right, yeah. Some tree probably woke up with a black eye this morning. Did you know about this?”

This last was to Yusuf, who shrugged. “I told you he wasn't happy with Cobb. Doesn't seem to far of a stretch that Arthur'd wind up stuck in the middle. And it's not the first time he's picked Cobb, is it?”

She tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I'll make a call.”

\- - - - -

Eames looked in the mirror and carefully repeated a few phrases to himself. It was always difficult to judge the exact level of hungover to go for in these situations – too much and he'll seem like he's aways away from being fit for a job of this size, too little and it won't gel with the story he and Arthur started last night. 

The phone hadn't rung yet. He was waiting for Kate to call, hoping for petty vindictiveness to trump rationale when it came to putting her team together, and he knew Arthur wouldn't get in contact now but there's a part of him waiting for some form of communication there as well.

It's too risky for that though, not when they're this close to getting Eames a spot on Kate's bench. He'll have to wait until the agreed moment before he gets confirmation that Arthur's side is going to plan.

He'd kind of zoned out in concentration when then phone finally rang.

Eames flicked the phone to speaker. “What?”

He'd decided on careful over-enunciation over slurred words. Read as drunk but aware, and therefore at least somewhat together.

Kate chuckled gently. “So Jonsi wasn't exaggerating then.”

“What the fuck do you want?” He moaned.

“Heard you might be in the market for a job.”

“Heard that, did you? And do you remember the last time we worked together?”

“I seem to remember the both of us emerging from that job unscathed.”

“I seem to remember we weren't the only people on that job.”

“Still bitter about that, are we? And I'd thought that... recent events might have re-aligned your opinions on such matters.”

Eames grinned for a moment before carefully flicking a lighter on where the phone's receiver could pick it up.

“Jonsi always had a fucking big mouth.”

It wasn't a question, and Kate didn't treat it as such.

“There's a job. It's a big one – a _lucrative_ one – and I think you're exactly what's missing.”

“Is this you wanting me for my skills, or you wanting me for some other reason?”

She laughed. “Can't it be both?”

Eames let the offer hang in the air a moment longer, before sighing deeply. “Where?”

“Paris. As soon as you can.”

“I can be there by Wednesday.”

“Excellent.”

“Do you have an architect yet?”

“It's going to be Darr –”

“Ditch him,” Eames interrupted. He shifted his eyes to the end of the table, where Ariadne had been watching the whole conversation. “I've got someone better.”

\- - - - -

Eames gave Ariadne a final quick glance before the taxi got close to their meeting spot.

“You remember everyt –”

“A dream within a dream is a fascinating concept I've yet to explore. I've never heard of Robert Fischer and barely heard of Dominic Cobb. And Limbo is just a terrifying prospect I'm not sure I really believe in. That everything?”

“You know, if you're going to get this irate every time someone doubts your abilities, you're not going to last long undercover.”

She glared at him. “I'll be fine.”

“Just keep your head down, okay? We don't want to raise any eyebrows.”

“I thought she was supposed to trust you.”

“Kate doesn't quite believe in trust. She'll trust me, in that she thinks she's giving me something I want more then I want to fuck her over. She'll trust you because I'll say she can, and I don't want you to get hurt. It's complicated, so you'd better not try and parse out the details, okay? Just don't get into trouble. And you've never met Yusuf.”

Ariadne glared at him. “ _I'll be fine_.”

They're working out of an abandoned office building. An entire floor nearly devoid of cubicle separations leaving a mostly empty space that still managed to feel divided up. Each member of the team already there seemed to cast their own little bubbles around them.

Yusuf was against the only structural wall, in front of a desk covered in vials and paperwork, and Ariadne has to force herself not to smile at the familiar face. Instead, she stepped slightly closer to Eames and turned to the room's other two occupants.

One – a tiny woman with long blonde hair – was sitting backwards on a swivel chair, her gaze flicking between two different laptops as she scribbled away at a sheet of paper. Ariadne would have guessed she was the pointwoman even if she hadn't been giving off the kind of intensely focused energy that Arthur did during a research spree.

Which meant that the woman sitting cross-legged on the other desk must be Kate. 

Ariadne looked at her, trying to see a little of what caused such trepidation in the rest of the team, but nothing jumped out at her. If anything, this woman in her yoga pants and lightweight hoodie seemed far more together then other people she'd worked with. She was flicking through her phone with a calm expression when she looked up and caught Eames' eye. She immediately glanced over at Ariadne and raised an eyebrow.

“Seriously? Has she even picked her major yet?”

Eames laughed a slightly harder laugh then Ariadne was used to. “She's good. I promise.”

Kate was still disbelieving as she slid off the desk and approached them. “Where'd you find her?”

“Strictly speaking, _I_ didn't.”

There was something in his voice Kate picked up on, and she grinned. “You stole her?”

Eames shrugged non-committally. “Let's just say I convinced her that her future lay elsewhere.”

“He always did have an eye for talent. Useless at capitalising on it though.”

“He was wasting her time,” Eames agreed.

“Let me guess, tiny closed-in worlds filled with upside-down staircases?”

“Something like that.”

Ariadne glanced back-and-forth between them. It wasn't hard to tell what – _who_ – they were talking about, but the tension between Eames and Kate was something slightly different. Finally, Kate broke away and clapped her hands.

“Right. Stephanie's still ironing out a few details before we can begin in earnest. Tom and Jeff will be around sometimes this week – got to make sure we don't run out of anything vital at an inopportune moment. What are you on at the moment?”

Eames stuck a hand under his jacket to pat his holster “P2000.”

“Easy enough then,” She turned to Ariadne. “What do you carry?”

“Um...” Ariadne looked at Eames for corroboration, but he just shrugged.

“You don't have a gun?”

“No?”

“I shouldn't really be surprised – we all know how Arthur feels about girls with guns, don't we?”

“Do we?” Ariadne glanced at Eames, but once again, he just shrugged.

“Don't worry about it,” Kate squeezed Ariadne's shoulder gently. “I'll get you sorted.”

She dug into her pockets and started sorting out scraps of paper on to the table in front of her. “Pick any desk you want, unless it's already covered in something.”

Ariadne followed Eames to two nearly-adjoining desks as Kate moved over to discuss something with Stephanie. Eames positioned them so their backs were to the rest of the room without being obvious about it.

“What's she talking about, about Arthur not liking girls having guns?”

“Arthur doesn't have a problem with women having guns. Arthur has a problem with Kate having guns, because half the time, Arthur's the one who gets shot. But we don't really give a fuck about Arthur, so that's irrelevant, right?”

“Right.”

Ariadne had barely sat down at her desk when Kate headed for the door.

“Head out early if you need the sleep. Tomorrow, the client gets here.” 

She looked at Eames and titled her head. “A word outside?”

Eames let his shoulders visibly stiffen for a second, and followed her out.

There was a quiet alleyway between their building and the next, and Eames followed Kate a few metres down it, watching as she carefully positioned them out of major sight lines. 

“Yusuf told me about your last job.”

Eames sighed. “And here I was thinking you wanted me for my brilliance.”

“Amongst other things. Was he right?”

“Depends on what he said.”

Kate leaned against the wall and looked at him carefully. “That you were part of the team that extracted from Robert Fischer.”

Eames scoffed quietly, staring down at his fingernails. “Bit of an over-statement. They hired me to provide a few distractions. I don’t know what the objective was, or even if they got everything they needed. I hadn’t even thought about it until I bumped into Fischer at the gala last month.”

She looked thoughtful for a second. “I wondered if something like that had happened to trigger off the recall.”

“I wish I could tell you more. I guess they didn’t trust me very much.”

Kate turned away to glance down the alley. “And they won’t have any idea about what we’re planning?”

“I haven’t spoken to hi - them - since... you know. I’d tell you to just trust me, but...”

Kate laughed, bright and easy, just for a second. “But you know me?”

“Something like that.”

She pushed away from the wall. “No problems, right? We’re not going to have anyone sweeping in with grand declarations and derailing us?”

Eames tilted his head his head carefully, letting the sun highlight the yellowing bruise around his eye.

“Not this time.”

\- - - - -

Technically, Ariadne had nothing to do until "the client" - Robert Fischer - arrived. They still only had a vague idea of whatever Kate was planning, and even though she knew what direction they were supposed to be edging the job towards - a recreation of whatever troubling dreams Fischer was having since inception - seeing as she officially had no knowledge of those dreams at all, she was somewhat at a loose end.

Eames was already elbows deep in piles of papers, but Ariadne wasn't sure he had any better idea of what he was supposed to be doing then she did. They wouldn't be able to try and push Kate towards Saito as a potential target until the job was further underway, and even then she was fairly sure Eames could forge Dom in his sleep.

In a manner of speaking.

So instead of doing anything productive, she was tapping away at her laptop, trying to email her mother yet another explanation about why she wouldn't be home for yet another few weeks. Her mother hadn't been taking the news well.

Behind her, the door opened. She could almost _feel_ Eames tense from the next desk over, and looked around to see what was happening.

Robert Fischer was standing in the doorway, looking a little like he wasn't sure if he should be there, and Ariadne felt her throat tighten a tiny bit. She'd had barely any interaction with him in the dream, and Yusuf was sure whatever Kate had done would be more focused towards broad details then tiny ones, but if he recognised her, they were made before they'd even begun.

She ducked her head lower to her desk and continued typing away, only risking tiny glances out of the corner of her eye.

Robert Fischer looked... tired was the only word. Which made a little sense, if the nightmares were as bad as Yusuf thought they could be, but even then, it was disconcerting. Gone were the perfectly tailored double-breasted suits she remembered from before the job, and he was instead standing there in a pair of charcoal khakis and a pale blue button-down. 

Tired and _lost_ she amended. 

It didn't take long before Stephanie looked up from her own laptop and spotted him. She stood up and fired off a quick text before crossing the room to great him.

"Mr. Fischer, so glad you could make it. My name is Stephanie, I... organise things for Kate. She'll be back soon, but if you'd like to take a seat, I'm sure someone could get you something to drink while we wait for her."

The way she said 'someone' with a quick glance towards Ariadne nearly made her laugh. It seems whatever Arthur and Eames would have you believe about how different Kate was, some things would always been the same. She got out of her seat and crossed over to the tiny kitchenette in the office corner. 

Normally she would ask what someone preferred before making them a drink. Especially because Robert Fischer is probably the kind of person who's never had to think about what he's ordered in his entire life, just expecting whatever it was to arrive without any further questions asked. But the tiny kitchen only has a kettle and an already half-empty can of Folgers, so their options are limited. Aside from being impressed that Kate - or more likely, Stephanie - managed to track it down in Paris, Ariadne's mainly glad she's never really developed a taste for expensive coffee, and that Eames seems to always travel with enough tea to see him through. 

She kept her hair covering as much of her face as she could manage when she handed him the cup, only mumbling 'sorry it's only instant' before sitting back down at her desk. She kept watching Fischer as discreetly as she could as she typed, and saw him take exactly two small sips of coffee before neatly abandoning the cup on the middle of the empty desk.

Very polite man, it seemed.

It didn't take long for Kate to arrive back.

Ariadne spent the time tapping away at her laptop, trying to instant message Eames to distract herself, but he didn't seem interested.

_He looks kind of rough_

_his dad died eight months ago. he's trying to dissolve one of the biggest corporations in the world. and he's having nightmares where he keeps dying. of course he looks rough._

_I wonder where Browning is?_

_considering what we did to browning in his mind god knows._

_You think that stuck as well?_

_no reason why it wouldn't. but maybe not. maybe brownings just busy with fischer morrow, and thinks bobby here can sort himself out._

_Really?_

_unlikely but possible._

Ariadne didn't particularly want to think about why Fischer was here alone. She didn't have to though, because Kate was back and standing in front of Fischer like she spoke for him, and in the context, it seemed she did.

\- - - - -

Arthur, thought Eames, would be horrified. Inviting the client into the workspace was pretty much unheard of. The only reason Saito had been in the warehouse in Paris was by his own unwavering insistence, and because that had still technically been _Cobb's_ job. Eames didn’t like tourists because they got in the way, Arthur didn’t like them because half the world’s police would cut them loose with a warning if they turned over dream criminals. He’d seen Arthur turn down jobs before when the client wanted a closer look at the action, and there was no way he'd have let Fischer - someone risky, someone who was just as likely to turn them all in as to work with them - this close to the action. Even Fischer looked freaked out as Kate introduced him to the rest of the room, throwing out terms that he probably didn't understand and she made no attempts to explain. Finally, they got to Eames, and Kate grinned.

"And this is Eames. I believe you might have met before, though again, you may not remember it."

They'd gone over this, him and Yusuf and Arthur and Cobb. He'd mainly been Browning in the dreams, or The Blonde, and the tiny bit of face-to-face interaction they'd had had been at a time when Fischer wasn't particularly paying attention to anything that wasn't directly involved in the giant safe (or the gun in his face), but there was still a chance he'd be recognised. He knew what to say, of course, but he'd very much rather it didn't come to that.

Fischer's eyes scanned over his face for a longer moment then he'd taken with anyone else, before smiling ruefully.

"Sorry, but I'm not really seeing anything. Am I correct in understanding that you were part of the original extraction team?"

Eames relaxed a little. It was so much easier to lie to someone's face if they didn't really know who you were.

"'Part of the team' might be exaggerating it a bit, mate. They hired me to do a couple of things they couldn't quite pull off themselves, but they never told me what they were after, unfortunately."

"If they had, we wouldn't need to do any of this." Kate pointed out.

"Exactly." Eames held out his hand to Fischer to shake. "Pleased to meet you though. It'll be a pleasure to try and reverse whatever they might have been up too."

Fischer shook his hand and smiled gently. "Thank you."

Kate lead Fischer over to Stephanie's desk to discuss a few more details, leaving Eames to relax slightly against his desk and let out a breath he'd been hiding. Ariadne looked at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Okay?" She mouthed.

Eames shrugged. "As good as can be expected."

But he looked over to the other side of the room, where Robert was standing between Kate and Stephanie as they showed him a couple of their preliminary plans. There was still something _off_ about this whole thing.

\- - - - -

Saito looked around the room a second time before carefully getting to his feet. He walked over to the wall and ran his fingers along the plaster before he moved over to the bookcase to check the various titles. 

"This is a dream." He announced.

Arthur entered the room. "Excellent. We've still got three minutes left on the clock, so we'll just sit it out here."

Saito nodded and returned to his seat.

"So we are making progress."

"Yes. We've established that you can quickly identify a dream when it's mimicking something you are familiar with, which means that you are becoming more used to the effects of Somnacin and more aware of the smaller details surrounding you. However, we're not sure what kind of dream they'll drop you into first - whether Stephanie will be able to come up with enough research to make Kate attempt to recreate something true-to-life. They might decide instead to create a dream that's not entirely familiar to you, but not so unfamiliar as to put you on your guard."

Saito nodded again. "You are thinking of a hotel room."

"Or an airport, yes. Somewhere large and anonymous and safe enough that you won't question being there, but with varying enough details that you won't be thrown of by imperfections. Knowing Ariadne, she'll try and insert clues as to the false nature of the dream somewhere to tip you off, but I'd rather not rely on that when we can't be sure she'll succeed. Instead, we need to get you used enough to constructed dreaming that you'll hopefully be able to realise you're dreaming as soon as you begin. Then it only becomes a matter of locating Dom and myself - and Eames, whatever form he is taking at that moment - and securing yourself as the rest of the dream plays out."

_Non, Je ne regrette rien_

For a second, Saito's eyes flashed around the room as if searching for a speaker, before he caught himself and looked back at Arthur.

Arthur grinned. "It happens to the best of us."

Saito nodded stiffly and waited for the dream to end.

\- - - - -

There was a loud crash from the doorway, and Ariadne turned around to see two men enter with large metal suitcases. One was dark haired and in a suit, the other blond in pants and a shirt with the top two buttons undone. They walked into the room like they were meant to be there.

“Kate!” The dark-haired one yelled. “We're busy men carrying explosives, we're on a timeline here.”

“With the amount I'm paying you, you'll sit the fuck down and wait.” Kate yelled from somewhere on the other side of the floor, before emerging from behind a cubicle wall.

“You both know Eames, and Stephanie. This is Ariadne, she's new. This is Jeff –” the blond “–and Tom. They sell guns.”

If either of the men were surprised to see Eames there, they didn't let it faze them for long, running Kate through a long list of things they had for her, before she waved them off and pointed at Ariadne.

“First sidearm. Thoughts?”

The both stared at her for a second.

“XR9. Easy to use, she won't end up shooting herself in the face.” said Tom. “Or maybe a PX4.”

“No. You want to get her something a little louder. G30. Unless she's got the time to put in a serious amount of practise, you want something that'll cause a little bit of destruction even when she misses.” said Jeff.

Ariadne tried not to bristle under the three contemplative stares, and turned back to Eames and her desk as soon as she could. 

“Why do I need a gun at all?”

“She wants you to be able to protect yourself.”

“How bad is she expecting things to get? I can't just stay out of the line of fire?”

“Kate tends to assume bullets will be flying at some point. You see her gun?”

In the heat of their office, Kate's jacket was off and her pistol was obvious.

“Hard not to.”

“Exactly. That's a gun for killing people.”

Ariadne rolled her eyes. “All guns are for killing people.”

“No.” Eames pulled his own gun out of his holster and showed it to Ariadne. It was smaller and older.

“This is gun for protecting myself and the people around me who don't have their own guns. If people get killed, that's a consequence, not an objective.”

“Seems like you're splitting hairs.”

“When you get down to it, everything's splitting hairs. Now quiet.”

Ariadne shut her mouth as Tom approached. He obviously knew Eames, leaning across the desk to shake his hand.

“Y’know, when Kate said Eames was on the job, it took me a few minutes to figure out there wasn’t someone else running around calling themselves the same thing.”

Eames smiled sharply. “Perhaps my loyalties have shifted.” 

Tom raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Kate. “That's a pretty big shift, mate.”

Eames sighed. “It's a long and complicated story that we are not going into.”

“Is it really that different to the last time? Or before that, even.”

He studiously avoided meeting Tom’s eyes.

“Don’t you think you’re burning your bridges a little fast?”

“You really don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, okay?” Eames glared at him. “Just give me my ammunition and get lost, alright?”

Tom grinned and lifted his hands up in defeat. “This boy's _touchy_ today, Jeff.”

“Unsurprising.” Jeff replied stoically.

Tom glanced over at Ariadne for support. “He like this with you all the time?”

She smiled up at him, trying her best for naively positive. “Sometimes? I guess.”

Jeff grinned and patted her shoulder. “He just needs to work off all his emotional pain with something aggressive, then he’ll be fine. Have fun with the Glock. Once you've got a little more experience, we'll sort you out with something a bit more powerful.”

Ariadne blinked for a second. “I'm sure I'll be fine.”

He smiled. “Never said you wouldn't be. But things can be way better then just fine.”

They were gone almost as quickly as they'd arrived, and suddenly Kate was in front of Ariadne, holding out a pistol.

“It's not loaded. Yet. Just see how it feels.”

She took the gun and turned it over in her hands, risking a tiny glance at Eames to get his opinion. But he was very specifically not making eye contact.

She looked up at Kate and smiled. “I suppose it feels good? I don't really know how it should feel.”

Kate grinned and pulled her to her feet. “C'mon. I know a place where we can get you started.”

\- - - - -

Ariadne didn't ask any questions as Kate ushered her from the car into a blank building. They walked down a corridor, then down two flights of stairs, before finally emerging into a long room.

She looked around. "I didn't think they had shooting ranges in Paris."

Kate grinned and dropped her jacket on a chair. "They have everything everywhere if you look hard enough."

She gestured Ariadne over to the lane and held out the gun to her. 

"Still not loaded."

Ariadne took the gun and held it carefully in both her hands. It was heavy, but no so bad as she's thought it might be. She looked over at Kate and tried to tell if she was doing anything wrong, but Kate was just watching her carefully.

"What would you do, if you were going to shoot it?"

Ariadne thought back to the times she'd seen someone fire a gun, in real life or on TV, and to the last time she'd held a gun herself, in limbo.

It hadn't been real that time - hadn't _felt_ real either - but this time she could feel the weight and the grain of the gun in her hands, and she turned to face the target and held the gun out.

Kate laughed gently. "You've been watching too many films."

Ariadne dropped her arms. "What's wrong?"

"Well firstly, you don't need to stand with your legs that wide. Just far enough apart that you feel steady. And loosen your shoulders, you don't want to be too tense or the recoil will fuck you over. Here."

Kate turned to face the targets herself and stood as if to fire. "You need to be comfortable. Try again."

Ariadne did, shuffling her feet closer together and trying bleed some of the tension out of her upper body.

"Better. Give me the gun."

She held the gun out to Kate, who smiled again and twisted it in Ariadne's hand so she was holding the barrel and offering the handle. 

"Just like a knife."

Kate slid some ammunition into the gun and handed it back. "Time to try for real."

Ariadne took the gun - heavier now - and turned to face the row of targets. She settled her feet, shook some tension out of her shoulders, and fired.

It went wide. She slouched in defeat.

Kate came up to stand directly behind her. "Not so bad, actually. For a novice. Here."

Laying her hands on Ariadne's shoulders, Kate carefully moved her body into a different stance, explaining as she went. Finally, she slid her hands down her arms to cup at Ariadne's elbows.

"Not too tight. Your body needs to be able to move with the gun, or you won't be able to control it. Try again."

Ariadne blinked her eyes slowly, relaxed slightly into the knowledge of Kate behind her, and fired.

It went wide again, though not as much.

"See, you're good at this." Kate grinned into her ear. "I don't know what he was playing at, not arming you. The kind of people he hangs around with, you'd need to protect yourself."

Ariadne stiffened slightly and took a tiny step forward, away from Kate.

"You mean Arthur?"

Kate rolled her eyes. "Of course. He's who you used to work with, right?"

"I don't know if I'd say that."

"Yeah." Kate cut her off. "You've only been doing this about eight months, right? Ever since Arthur started working alone again."

"I guess? I thought he always worked alone."

Kate laughed. "No. He used to work with Cobb, and sometimes with Eames, though I guess that's over now. Whatever _that_ was, anyway. Not that Eames is any better, really - no offense - but there's a certain honesty to forthright dishonesty, maybe. Anyway."

"So, you don't like each other?"

"I don't like him. I assume he doesn't like me, we don't exactly talk about it."

"Why?"

Kate took a step closer to frame Ariadne's body again, resting her hands on her shoulders. "It's probably because I shot him. Try again."

\- - - - -

Ariadne was doodling on the edges of her sketchpad when Kate brought Fischer over. 

"Stephanie and are are heading out to get some things sorted out, and Eames is doing some research across town. Can you start working with Robert, try and see how close to his dreams we can get?"

Fischer was standing half a step behind Kate, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked up at his name and smiled slightly at Ariadne. She brushed her charcoal-y hands off on her pants and stood up.

"Of course, Mr. Fischer. Do you want me to grab you a chair?"

"I can get it myself, thank you. And it's Robert, please."

Kate smiled at the two of them before snapping her fingers at Stephanie, who rolled her eyes and followed her out the door.

Ariadne and Fischer were now alone in the office.

He coughed slightly and pulled a chair over to the other side of her desk. 

"Where would you like to begin?" 

She picked up her sketchpad and tried to sit properly in her seat. 

"Um, we can go from wherever you want. Maybe we can just start at your clearest memory of the dreams? What's the first thing that struck you about them?"

Robert ran his hand through his hair. "The rain? But is that something you guys can control? I'm not really sure how all this stuff works."

Ariadne smiled warmly. "Yeah, it can be a little hard to get your head around. I'm still working half of it out myself. Rain... I don't know if I can build that into the design itself, but we can probably figure out a way to get it in there. Maybe a more experienced dreamer can add that in themselves? Or we can just make them drink a few liters of soda before we start, force them to be thinking about it."

Robert smiled back. "Is that how it works?"

She shrugged. "I guess? I mean, I haven't been doing this that long, but it makes sense, yeah? If some of the things happening to the dreamer affect the dream, then it makes sense that all of them would."

Robert pulled one of his legs up under himself on his chair. "Makes sense."

"Cool. So, we can worry about the rain next time. Just concentrate on the actual physicality of the dream for now, okay?"

"Okay." Robert closed his eyes for a second, before opening them and looking over at Ariadne, blushing slightly. "This isn't as easy as Kate makes it look."

"Yeah, well." Ariadne laughed. "Kate's really good at her job. It makes sense that she'd be quicker at this. Don't worry about it, just think of the strongest thing you can remember. Through the rain, if that's possible."

"I don't know." He laughed. "When you're outside, it's pretty hard to think of anything other then the rain."

She smiled back. "It's a good thing we're indoors then."

"Okay." Robert closed his eyes again. "It felt like downtown. Downtown in a big city, I mean. Lots of big, glassy buildings in squared off streets."

As he spoke, Ariadne picked up her sketchpad again and started drawing.

\- - - - -

Arthur carefully scanned through the list of personal ads. Trying to co-ordinate activities across two teams under complete radio silence was difficult, but not something that was going to defeat him. They just had to come up with other – more old-fashioned – methods of communication. Arthur's plans had involved dead-letter drops and the assistance of one or two helpful Parisian teenagers. Needless to say, the personal columns had been Eames idea.

Finally, he found the ad he was looking for.

_Are you Rachmaninov for me?_

So they were still there, still unsuspected. Or at least they were yesterday. Was there any wonder he thought this method of interaction was somewhat lacking? He'd have to call Yvette to try and get a more concrete idea of their activities. He knew Fischer was in Paris already, and every day he was in the same room as Eames and Ariadne, maybe even _going under_ with them, was another day when another one of his memories of the inception might be triggered.

Hopefully, this wouldn't last much longer. He didn't like to think of ... either of them in that situation for much longer.

\- - - - -

Ariadne looked down at her sketches and nibbled at her fingernail. She glanced around the room and watched as Kate and Stephanie packed away a few papers and books and left the room, and as Yusuf stared at another line of chemical notation on his whiteboard and frowned. Finally, when she was sure that the other women were far enough away she reached across the conjoined desks and poked Eames in the arm.

Something classical drifted out of his earphones as he pulled them out to look at her.

“What?”

“She still wants to extract from Dom.”

“She does, yeah.”

“So... when are you going to change the plan?”

“I'm not.”

Ariadne blinked. “You're... not?”

Eames grinned. “No, I'm not. You are.”

“ _I_ am?”

Eames reached across the desk to pat her shoulder. “She likes you, she'll listen.”

“I thought she liked you.”

“Not really. Me and Kate, we're more of an enemy of my enemy kind of thing. You though, she thinks you've got something.”

“What do I say?”

“You'll think of something.”

“ _What_?”

Eames picked his headphones up. “She knows a bit about how I think, she might spot it. You'll figure it out. I'll help you out tomorrow if you can't.”

He stuck his headphones back in and looked back down at his papers. “It'll be fine.”

\- - - - -

Kate was standing at the front of the room, gesturing with her markers when Ariadne slowly raised a hand.

“What?”

“Dominic Cobb, right? Back when I worked wi... um, he said that Cobb's been doing this for a long time.”

Kate looked at her. “And?”

“So, isn't he probably militarised by now?”

“Almost definitely,” Stephanie agreed. “I haven't been able to track down who did it – he's got too many connections – but I'm opperating under the assumption that he has.”

“We always do,” Kate said. “So what's your point?”

“Well, if we think that whatever job Cobb pulled, he pulled for Saito... Wouldn't it make more sense to extract from him, instead?”

“Saito _is_ definitely militarised,” Kate said.

“By Richardson, as far as I could tell.” Stephanie said.

“But still,” Ariadne pressed on. “There's no way he's got as much experience dreaming as Cobb does. Even if Saito is militarised, he's still going to be a better mark then Cobb, right?”

Kate tapped her marker against her lip while she thought, before glancing over at Stephanie. 

“Look into it.”

Stephnie huffed for a moment, but made a note in front of her. “Fine.”

Kate looked back at Ariadne and smiled slightly. “We'll see how it pans out.”

Ariadne smiled back.

\- - - - - Eames was waiting on a street corner for nothing much. His forge for the dream was going to be Cobb, and he'd already convinced Kate he could pull it off, so he was somewhat adrift for the moment. Ideally, he'd be off somewhere, trying to get his forge of Saito down better, but seeing as he couldn't really let Kate in on that part of the plan, he was stuck. Not that Kate had ever met Saito, so as long as he got it physically right he'd be fine, but when it came to his job, Eames was as much of a perfectionist as Arthur. Of course, he couldn't be left entirely to his own devices, so he was nominally staking out the hotel they were planning on using for the job. Saito had an upcoming series of business meetings in Paris, and Stephanie was already on target to access – and potentially alter – his reservations for the week he'd be in the city. Eames technically needed to know the patterns of security guards and CCTV cameras the hotel had in operation, but he was already pretty sure he had them down. Sometimes, he just didn't want to be stuck in a room with Kate for any longer then was strictly necessary. He felt someone brush against his arm and his hands immediately went to his pocket – he'd been doing this for long enough to know a pickpocket when he felt it – but instead of a missing wallet or mobile phone, he found a folded-over scrap of paper with a seemingly innocuous phrase on it. _I'm Liszt-less without you._ Eames folded the paper up small and sliding it into the lining of his sleeve. Even if someone did find it, the random phrase in clear script would be easy enough to explain away as a handwriting experiment. But for now, it meant that Arthur – and the rest of the team – were on-target. He smiled before sticking his arm out for a taxi. That was enough surveillance for today. 

\- - - - -

Ariadne was working carefully at her models, trying to eliminate any obvious aspects of the design that Robert hadn't remembered, when Kate approached her.

"Looking good, Ari."

"Thanks."

"We're on track?"

Ariadne pushed her hair back from her forehead and looked at the model for a moment. "Yeah, I should say so. So long as Robert doesn't remember anything else major, and Eames can't contribute any more then he has, there isn't really much else that I can do, until we're ready to go.”

"Excellent." Kate checked her watch. "Stephanie and are are going to head out for something to eat. Want to join us?"

She was hungry. 

"Yeah, that'd be great. Should I call Eam - "

"Nah, leave the boys be, yeah? Just the three of us."

Stephanie was already waiting at the door, eyes glued to her blackberry in as close as she got to leaving the work on her desk. Kate slung her arm around Ariadne's shoulder as they left the office. 

"I know you used to live in Paris, so you've probably been there before, but there's this place a couple of blocks from here that I'm absolutely in love with."

Kate lead them to a hole-in-the-wall cafe about five minutes away from the office building. They didn't even need to order, just sat down and waited as they wait staff brought "everything" to the table, at Kate's request. It took about fifteen minutes before the conversation moved on from basics like "pass me... that."

The eating lulled and Stephanie turned to Ariadne, an oddly familiar inquisitiveness in her eyes.

"So, this is your first job without Arthur?"

 _Technically_ that was true, so Ariadne didn't have to worry about the lie showing on her face. 

"Yes."

"How do you like it?"

"It's... good. Different. Interesting."

"It's a whole world of firsts, this job." Stephanie grinned. "Your first without him, our first extraction."

"This is not my first extraction." Kate pointed out.

"Just your first _illegal_ extraction, then."

Ariadne turned to Kate. "You've never extracted before?"

" _Of course_ I've extracted before." she snapped. "I would have hired someone else to do it if I didn't think I could."

"It's just her first without a willing victim." Stephanie raised a grinning eyebrow. "Every other time had a volunteer. And was nearly ten years ago."

"You can stop listening to her, as she attempts to _malign my abilities_." Kate said to Ariadne before waving the waiter over to order some more wine. "Just because they had signed up to be extracted from doesn't mean they were compliant, or easy, or anything she's implying." 

"She doesn't like to admit she's not the best at everything." Stephanie stage-whispered to Ariadne. "But it has been a while."

Ariadne looked back and forth between the two women. "What happened?"

“Everything gets worse when the fucking military gets involved.”

Ariadne looked at Kate and tried her best to seem blandly inquisitive. “What’s wrong with military involvement? Didn’t it push a lot of dream sharing technology forward?”

“Of course _he’d_ say that. The military changed the objective, pushed people to develop dreaming the way they wanted it, and then...”

She trailed off and stabbed angrily at the remaining food on her plate.

“Dominic Cobb,” Stephanie added.

“Exactly. And then people like Dominic Cobb become so obsessed with reaching the edge they end up throwing their own wives off it.”

Ariadne swallowed. “Oh.”

“Arthur never told you about _that_ , did he? About how Mal died and he spent two years following Dom around the world, helping him escape, tearing other people apart to do it.”

Kate took a large gulp of wine. "Extraction is fucking immoral."

There was a silence at the table, before Stephanie laughed. "Never let it be said you weren't one for the sweeping statements."

"You can't say that going into someone's mind and taking something from them - something they may not even have fully articulated to themselves - isn't wrong."

"Isn't that what we're doing now?" Ariadne asked.

"This," Kate poured them all more wine, "is revenge. There is nothing wrong with punching someone in the face once they've already punched you."

"That," Stephanie agreed, "or she's just mad someone managed to break through her defenses."

"He was sedated." Kate argued. "I couldn't have known they'd be using that level of sedation on him, or they would all have been blown up the second they set foot in there."

"But that!" Ariadne interrupted. "How is that different? I mean, you're going into someone's mind and _actively changing_ them. Why is that okay? I mean, in extraction, at least they don't lose anything."

"Are you sure you don't know Dom Cobb?" Stephanie asked. 

"The difference is," Kate said, "is that what I do, people volunteer for. I'm protecting them against people like Cobb and Arthur. And the only reason they don't remember me is that there's always a chance their subconscious can reject it if they do. It's the same reason inception has never worked, you can't force the brain to accept a change it's not ready for, not if you want the person to be aware of what that change is."

"So... Saito deserves to have his brain messed with, then?" Ariadne asked.

"You fuck with someone else, you accept the consequences. Saito's a big boy, he knows the rules."

Kate drained the end of her glass of wine. "We should head back."

\- - - - -

A shadow fell across Ariadne's sketchbook, and she looked up to where Robert was standing by her desk.

“Kate has instructed me to stay out of her way, and I really can't handle another cup of instant coffee, so I'm going out. Would you care to join me?”

She looked around the room. Eames and Yusuf were both out, and Kate and Stephanie were in deep conversation in the corner.

She smiled up at him. “Of course.”

There was a busy but still quiet cafe a few streets over from their office, and they made their way there. When the waitress brought their coffee to the table, Robert took a deep inhale of his before sipping.

“I really don't see how Kate can drink that stuff day in, day out.”

“It's not so bad.”

Robert smiled. “But you're barely out of college. You wouldn't know refined tastes if they hit you.”

“Hey!” But she was smiling too. “I'll have you know I developed a very discerning palate towards instant ramen when I was an undergrad.”

“I have no doubt.”

They sat in silence for a moment, before Robert started talking again.

“I had my first cup of coffee when I was fourteen. My dad was there – that's probably the only reason I remember it, he wasn't at breakfast often – and my uncle Peter gave me some. I nearly choked on it, it was so strong and bitter. I wanted to pour piles of sugar and cream in, but my dad said that if I was going to drink coffee”– his voice shifted into a slightly throatier tone – “I was 'going to drink it like a man'.”

He smiled sadly and fiddled with his spoon. “That's probably what they were looking for, right? Something to do with him?”

“We can't be sure.”

“But we can be _pretty_ sure. I mean, he's the only thing about me that anyone's ever had any interest in.”

“That's not tr –”

“It is.”

There was silence again. Finally, he smiled thinly.

“I don't mind that much. I mean, he _was_ brilliant, it's no wonder everyone's still fascinated by him. I really don't mind. I loved him, I did – _do_ – did, but still...”

He looked at her for a moment. “You know, the moment I decided to break up the company, it was the first moment in my life where I felt like I was someone, like I was _me_ , instead of just a part of the Fischer Morrow machine. But even now, all everyone wants to talk about is what _he_ would have thought about it.”

Ariadne felt useless. “These things just take time.”

“I know. And I'm sorry about this. Just needed to vent, I guess.”

“Well, this is the most politely I've ever been vented at.”

Robert smiled again, wider this time. “Good to know.”

\- - - - -

It was late, and Stephanie and Kate were out, getting something 'sorted out' that Eames didn't really want to contemplate. He and Ariadne were working late, piles of paper and construction materials spread out over their desks. When the numbers on the clock finally started to blur into each other, Eames shut his latest folder and sighed.

“Fancy a bite?”

Ariadne knew Paris better then he did, and lead him to a tiny late night bistro only ten minutes walk from the office building. They ordered, and Eames could finally feel some of the tension melt out of his shoulders.

“How're you holding up?”

“Hmm?” Ariadne looked up from where she'd been fiddling with her fork. “Oh. I'm fine.”

He looked at her for a second before reaching over to still her fingers. “No, you're not.”

She dropped her fork on the table and picked up her wine glass.

“So, was Kate in the military as well? Is that where she and Arthur met?”

Eames raised an eyebrow slightly at the inelegant segue, but didn't comment. “Kate's a civilian.”

“ _Really?_ ”

Eames grinned. “If you think anyone's going to look at her psych evaluation and hand her a gun for state-sanctioned violence, you've got even less faith in your military then I do.”

Ariadne didn't smile back. “She doesn't seem that crazy to me.”

Eames looked down at the table for a second, then back up at Ariadne. “Wait until someone's pointing a gun at her.”

“Reacting with violence when someone points a gun at you seems pretty sane to me.”

“Ariadne, you don't carry a handgun capable of taking down a bear if you're interested in a proportional response, okay?”

Ariadne was quiet for a moment. “So if she's not military, how do she and Arthur know each other? Why do they hate each other?”

“Because _she keeps shooting him_.” Eames said, slowly.

“No, that's why he hates her. What's her problem with him?”

“I tend not to worry too much about the motivations of irrational people. She's not going to stop hating him any time soon, so why bother?”

“You don't think understanding her would be –”

Eames cut her off just as their food arrived. “We're not here to understand her. We're here to stop her job so we never have to deal with her again. Understanding is irrelevant.”

Ariadne didn't respond.

\- - - - -

The night before the job, Ariadne was up late in the office, trying to distract herself. She was sketching wild and improbable shapes when a shadow fell across her desk.

“It's late.” Kate offered.

“Yeah. I can't sleep.”

“Makes sense.” Kate pulled herself up to sit cross-legged on Ariadne's desk. “It's your first proper job.”

“Second”, thought Ariadne, “but who's counting?”

“I'll be fine soon. Just need to empty my mind a little.”

Kate smiled. “Hey, whatever works for you.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“Have you given any thought to what you'll be doing after this?”

Ariadne looked up. “Not really? I guess I'll just stick with Eames for a bit, see how that goes?”

Kate laughed coldly. “You think that's going to last? You don't think Eames and Arthur will be back together before January, and you'll just be left aside? Arthur will forgive Eames – he has before – but you'll be the one who abandoned him for money.”

“I... didn't really think of that.”

“Well, time to think. Eames and Arthur – and Cobb too, before – they play big, and they play rough, and the only people they care about are themselves, and sometimes each other. You're too good at this to waste your time stuck between two men only interested in their own glory.”

“It’s not like that.”

Kate looked at her for a second. “Don't you think that's what Mal thought?”

Ariadne said nothing, instead just staring down at her drawings. 

Kate stood up and rested her hand on her shoulder. “This isn't an offer with an expiration date. Just think about it, okay? Now get some sleep.”

\- - - - -

Ariadne checked her watch, then her hair, then her shoelaces, then her watch again. The second hand seemed to be ticking slower then it should, but when she looked up at the rest of the team, no one seemed worried. Eames had his eyes closed, his head pressed against the side of the van and a poker chip flipping over his knuckles. Stephanie was driving, Yusuf was checking the tray of vials on his lap for what seemed like the thousandth time, and Kate was methodically checking the cartridges on her and Ariadne's guns.

She ran over the job in her head. Stephanie had the first level – that was where projections would be riskiest – Yusuf had the hotel, and she had the snow herself. The idea being that if they re-create the first job it would trigger Saito's memories of the target without them having to risk reprisals by attempting to directly trigger a lead-in. Not even Cobb would know how Saito's militarisation would react to intrusion.

She kept her head down as they walked from the van to the hotel corridors, and finally Kate quietly took out both of Saito's bodyguards and they were in.

The set up goes as smoothly as can be expected, and before she knows it, she's back on that same rainy street she knows better then almost anything else.

Stephanie was gone, already staking out the area while Kate lead them into the nearest office.

They arrived at the ground-floor bathroom, and Kate dropped her bag and looked over at Eames, Ariadne, and Yusuf.

“Time to go.”

They all moved fluidly – Eames to the mirrors, Yusuf to the window, and Ariadne to join Kate flanking the doorway. Ariadne glanced over at Eames as he stared at himself in the mirror, but looked away after a second. Watching as Eames did this always made her feel ill-at-ease.

There was a cough, and she turned back around again. She had to stifle a laugh, because even though the Cobb standing in front of her now _looked_ perfect, the way he held his body and his face was still pure Eames. 

Eames raised an eyebrow at her and shifted slightly, and instantly he was gone.

Next to her, Kate laughed. “Perfect. Let's move.”

On the street, they fan out, searching the rain for Saito. “Cobb” had to convince Saito they were in danger – of what Eames was probably going to improvise – and get him off the street and sedated so the rest of them could hook in and drag him down to the hotel so they could go about triggering more of the memories.

Ariadne looked down the street and thought she saw a figure on the next corner.

\- - - - -

Arthur entered Saito's hotel room carefully so as not to trip over the many things spread across the floor. Once inside, he checked the pulse and line of everyone connected, before beckoning Cobb into the room behind him. They pulled extra lines from the PASIV and laid down between the sleeping bodies, and woke up in the rain.

Arthur quickly checked the streets around them before pulling himself close to the wall to remain inconspicuous. They had to find Yusuf or Ariadne, without running into Kate or Stephanie, and they had to find them before they brought Saito down any further. Checking to make sure Dom was still behind him, he slowly advanced through the maze of streets.

A flash of blonde hair caught his eye, and he ducked. Stephanie was entering a building two blocks down, carrying a PASIV and a Heckler & Koch. They'd found the site, if not the players.

\- - - - -

Eames broke away from the group as soon as the figure in the distance became clear. When he got close enough for Saito to see his face, he slowed down.

“Mr. Eames, I presume? Unless we are in yet another of Arthur's careful practise runs, but I do not believe so.”

“Exactly right, Saito. Arthur would never have this much rain. However, we are being closely watched, so if you could do your best to look both surprised and sure that I'm Cobb, that would be wonderful. This way.”

Saito inclined his head graciously and followed Eames into the rain.

From three blocks away, Kate and Ariadne watched the exchange. 

“Give them two minutes.” Kate looked around again to make sure there were no projections. “Then follow them. Eames will lead him to Stephanie, and then we're down again.”

Ariadne nodded and looked around for herself. No trouble from projections yet, but they couldn't be too sure how much longer that would last. There was every chance Saito's subconscious would recognise the deception of Eames' forge even if he didn't, and no way of knowing how his projections might react to that.

There was nothing nearby, so she let out the breath she'd been holding in.

“You still okay?” Kate asked.

She shook her head. “I'm fine. Just cold.”

Kate smiled. “We'll be indoors soon enough. And once we get down to the third level, you'll be wishing you were still up here.”

\- - - - -

Arthur carefully looked out from around some scaffolding to keep an eye on Stephanie. She was standing in the building's doorway, waiting for something. He scanned the nearby streets and buildings.

“We're not going to be able to intercept them before they drop.” Cobb said.

“No. We'll just have to hope once they're down there, there's more room to manoeuvre.”

They watched as Saito and Cobb – Eames – approached the building, and as Stephanie ushered them both inside. Arthur checked his watch.

“We'll give them five minutes after the others get here. Then we're in.”

Cobb nodded.

\- - - - -

Eames had barely turned his back for a second, but when he turned back around, Saito was already on the floor and Stephanie was disposing of a syringe.

“What the fuck is that for? He's supposed to trust me.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes and started preparing the PASIV.

“Firstly, not even you can wake up already forging, so we need to make sure that you don't wake up in the same place. Secondly, we need him to be on edge, afraid that someone's trying to mess with him, because that's going to trigger the memories of _why_ someone's messing with him.”

“You don't think I can get him ill-at-ease by myself?” Eames asked.

“I have no doubt that you think you can, but this is how we're doing things, so deal with it.”

She checked the dials a final time and turned back to him. 

“Keep an eye outside. We don't want anyone getting eliminated before we're even half-way through.”

Outside, the rain was still pouring, but Eames could see Ariadne and Kate approaching, followed a moment later by Yusuf. Once they were all inside, Kate looked threw Stephanie another sub-machine gun.

“Right. Keep them off, sound the alarm. You know how this goes. Everyone down.”

Stephanie, Kate, Eames, and Ariadne all took their places around the PASIV. Stephanie snapped her headphones on and handed out lines.

“And three, two –”

\- - - - -

Arthur looked through the window as fast as he could before ducking back down again.

“And?” Cobb asked.

“Well, they've gone down, so there's only one of them left awake.”

“But it's Stephanie, isn't it?”

Arthur nodded. “Stephanie and her guns.”

Cobb swore. “I don't suppose you've bought any sedatives with you?”

“Not for distance, no.”

“So we just wait until she turns her back?”

Arthur checked his watch. “We have about five minutes before they've been down there too long not to have some kind of result. I vote for we shoot her in the shoulder and knock her out before she can react enough to shoot back.”

Cobb looked at him. “That's the plan?”

Arthur risked another glance through the window. “That's the plan.”

\- - - - -

The hotel was almost exactly as Ariadne remembered it. Kate laid a hand on her shoulder and quickly guided her through the hallways.

“We just need to wait here until Eames gives us the signal. Keep an eye out though, the projections tend to get a little more _creative_ the deeper you go.”

Ariadne nodded and followed her, sparing a quick glance to watch Eames – “Cobb” – approach Saito once again.

\- - - - -

Stephanie came around to a searing pain in her shoulder and Cobb and Arthur already hooked up the the PASIV. She hovered her hand over their lines for a second before shrugging to herself and sitting back down.

She had a contingency plan already in place.

After a quick glance out the window to make sure the projections were still at bay, Stephanie closed her eyes for a second.

When she opened them, the whole world had changed.

\- - - - -

Saito looked at “Cobb” for a long moment before he nodded.

“So we are further down.”

“Yes, we are. I thought they'd at least let you think they were helping you out, but it seems we're working this one old-school. If you'll just follow me again...”

He lead him to room 528. 

“Provided they weren't taken out by Stephanie before even making it down again, Arthur and Cobb will meet us here.”

“And if they have?”

“Then we're kind of fucked.”

As soon as they were safely locked in, Eames let the forge drop away. It seemed to relax Saito somewhat, even as Eames paced back and forth, chewing at his fingernails.

He checked his stopwatch.

“They should be here by now.”

Saito sat calmly against the wall. “They will be here soon.”

Arthur and Cobb dropped down through an air vent and landed in a heap on the bed. Eames checked his watch again.

“Kate's going to want some sort of update soon.”

Arthur pulled himself to his feet. 

“Saito, you're staying here. Kate hates mazes, there'd have to be something really fucking important to force her to drag herself through one. Eames, you're Saito, Cobb, you're you. Except not entirely, because you're what Kate thinks Eames thinks you'd act like around Saito.”

Cobb ran a hand through his hair. “And how is that?”

“Like a wanker, who's trying hard not to seem like a wanker,” Eames offered.

Cobb rolled his eyes. “Perfect.”

Arthur ignored them both. “You can't carry guns, she'll spot that immediately, so I'm going to cover you. Try not to set her off, we want to get through this and out as quickly as we can.”

“Right.” 

Eames crossed over to the room's mirror and stared at himself for a moment before shifting into Saito, leaving his suit wrinkled and letting a look of general worry move across his face. When he turned back to face the room Saito looked over him for a second before nodding his approval.

“Impressive work, Mr. Eames.”

“Don't compliment him.” Arthur said. “It'll only make things more difficult.”

Saito nodded again and took the gun Arthur offered him. “Whatever you think is best.”

He checked the gun's chamber before sitting back down on the bed, facing the door. He trained the gun on the doorway and nodded again.

“As good a moment as any.”

Eames followed Cobb out of the hotel room, whispering the directions back to Kate as they went. Arthur waited exactly twenty seconds before following them out, leaving Saito alone in the locked room.

“We'll be back.”

“I have no doubt.”

\- - - - -

Kate's eyes were scanning the hallway as they waited, and Ariadne had folded her hands under her legs to stop herself fiddling with her fingernails. Suddenly, Kate turned carefully to look at Ariadne.

“What's wrong?”

She turned carefully to look at Ariadne.

“Can you think of any reason why anyone here would have a projection of Arthur running around?”

Ariadne froze.

\- - - - -

Yusuf crouched in between two jutting corners and looked around the hotel's corridors. He had three minutes to make it back to Kate before she'd start to get suspicious and wonder why he was taking so long. He'd seen Eames and Cobb – or people he assumed were Eames and Cobb, anyway – leaving the hotel room, and carefully shifted the architecture _just enough_ to keep Saito's room secure while hopefully not alerting the projections to a difference.

All he had to do now was get back and hold the fort.

\- - - - -

Ariadne tried her best to look surprised.

“Are you sure it's Arthur? I mean, this is the kind of place that's usually full of people in suits, maybe it just loo –”

Kate rolled her eyes. “I can spot him when I see him.”

“But how could he be here? You think he's one of Saito's projections?”

Kate positioned herself so she had a more concealed view of the doorway and leveled her gun.

“I can't imagine so, unless Eames hasn't been entirely honest about exactly why they broke up.”

“Maybe he's Eames' then?” Ariadne grasped at ideas. “I mean, it makes sense, right? If this was the last job they did together, and – ”

“No.” Kate cut her off. “To drag a projection down two levels when you're not the dreamer or the subject? That takes some major fucked up demons, we'd have seen them on the practice runs. There's only one option left, and...”

She shifted again so she could see both Ariadne and the hallway. 

“He must have followed us. Which means he must have known we were here. Which means that _someone_...”

“It wasn't me!” Ariadne insisted.

Kate looked at her for a second. “It's obvious who it is.”

“I didn't know, I promise.”

Ariadne watched as Kate’s second gun switched its focus.

“I swear, I didn’t,” she was practically babbling now. “Eames _never_ talks about Arthur. I would have said if I thought there was any risk of him screwing us over. _I would have told you_.”

There was a tense silence for a moment,before Kate lowered the gun and Ariadne let out a heavy breath.

“My gun up there is just as loaded, and far more dangerous. If I find...”

“I promise I didn’t know.”

Kate sighed and re-sighted her gun. “What did I tell you about getting caught up in their little games? But don't worry, it's not like the prospect wasn't at the back of my mind. There's always a contingency plan.”

\- - - - -

Eames slowed down as they approached the hallway. 

“Right. She'll be expecting me – you – to be a little distracted. Don't say much, don't look at Ariadne, and as soon as we're down again, get me out of the room as fast as you can without looking desperate.”

“This isn't my first job, Eames.”

Eames rolled his eyes. “And try not to look at Kate like you think she'll break your jaw. Game face on.”

\- - - - -

From his position in the stairwell, Arthur watched Eames and Dom enter the hotel room. He set the timer on his watch for two minutes, and carefully checked all the parts of his guns.

\- - - - -

“What kind of contingency plan?” Ariadne asked.

“If Stephanie thinks we're compromised down here, she's setting up a trap on the first level. The kick will bring them back, but Eames will think he's back topside. If you see Arthur down there, let me know immediately. Or shoot him yourself, either works. Don’t worry about aim, just point in his direction. You're chambered big enough to cause some damage even if you're not on target. Okay?”

Ariadne looked down at the gun in her own hand, then to the four guns Kate was carrying, and the steely look in her eyes.

“Okay.”

The door opened before she could respond further, and Cobb and Saito – Cobb and _Eames_ – entered. She tried to catch Eames eye – tried to signal something approaching “she's on to us” – but both the men kept their eyes on Kate.

A few seconds later, Yusuf shuffled into the room and set up the PASIV. Kate took one final look into the hallway before joining them on the floor.

“Time to go.”

\- - - - -

Ariadne had nearly forgotten how fucking _cold_ it was down here. The wind was blowing snow in all their faces, and by the time she'd managed to get a bearing on where they were, Cobb and Eames had run for it. Kate grabbed her arm and hurried them both after them.

They'd landed closer to the fort then last time, and it didn't take them long to arrive at the bottom and start climbing in.

“We've to get to the strong room. Before them, so we can catch them out. Saito's too smart to have his secrets in a safe, we're going to have to search his person.”

“Then we blow the place and ride back up?”

“Until the first level again.”

Ariadne followed Kate through the vents.

“How does the trap work? We'll all be stuck on the top level, and they'll realise we're dreaming.”

“Doesn't matter. All I need is a few moments to kick myself awake. Then I can finish them off while they're still asleep, and just wait for you and Stephanie to follow me up.”

Ariadne stopped moving. “You're going to kill them?”

“What, you don't think they'd do the same to me? To _us_ , if we got in their way?”

“They wouldn't. They're not like that.”

Kate wasn't paying attention. “We've been through this before, okay? You don't need them.”

“But th – _Eames_ – is my friend. He's helped me a lot, with everything.”

“I'm sure he has. Doesn't mean he won't ditch you the first chance he gets. And these are powerful people, Fischer and Saito. Powerful people in the real world, not just dreaming. You really think you can fuck one of them over – both of them, in your case – and walk away from it?”

Ariadne was about to reply when Kate held an arm up to silence her. 

They'd reached the strong room. 

Kate carefully checked all the windows before folding herself into an alcove.

“When they get here, you keep them talking.”

They waited in silence, Kate hidden, Ariadne standing in the centre of the room. Finally, she heard them approach.

“...thur will get here as soon as he can, then we just need to hold her off until the call for the kick.”

“If you're sure you can manage it.”

Ariadne froze when the entered the room and turned towards her. She could see Kate slowly approaching them and tried to say something – _anything_ – to warn them, but she couldn't, and it was almost instant that Kate cracked Cobb over the head with the butt of her gun and he went down.

The second Dom hit the floor, Eames sprang around to grab for Kate. But she had better purchase and her own body to work with, and it took less then five minutes for her to get him on his knees.

She wrapped her arms around Eames' neck, slowly crushing the air out him until he went limp and dropped.

As soon as “Saito's” body hit the ground, the forge dropped, and Eames was lying there instead.

Kate didn't stop, dropping to her knees in front of him and searching through his pockets.

“What are you doing, he's not the mark.”

“He's not the mark, but he's still the subject, and he was still on the job. I'm not going to let Arthur completely fuck me over so...”

She tore through his snow jacket and searched his body for any hint at what they were looking for. When she finally reached his skin, her fingers closed around his dog tags, and she looked up at Ariadne and grinned.

“What?”

Kate just held out the silver tags to Ariadne, who took them and read the single word stamped into the metal.

Inception.

\- - - - -

The opening riff for Kate's kick music floated through the air, and Yusuf checked his watch. Surely it was too early for the kick?

\- - - - -

Arthur slid into the room strong room as “Eye of the Tiger” started reverbing through the building. Ariadne and Kate were on their knees on the floor on either side of Eames. But he couldn't be dead, because his projections were still clamouring at the doors. 

Kate's eyes flashed up at him as soon as he halted. 

“Too late.”

Beneath them, the building started to collapse.

\- - - - -

Ariadne snapped awake on the floor of the hotel room. She couldn't reach for her totem – couldn't risk Kate adding her to the hit list – so she scrabbled around the room trying to find some proof of where they really were. Stephanie wasn't an architect, there must be _something_ different if this was really still a dream.

She looked up, to find herself still surrounded by guns.

Yusuf had Stephanie pinned to the wall, Eames and Cobb were guarding the door, and Arthur had his gun trained on Kate, whose arms were up.

Ariadne felt like screaming. If Arthur couldn't spot that Kate being unarmed meant they'd walked into a trap, then they were screwed.

“Don't kill her!”

Kate grinned. “He won't.”

“I fucking will.”

“Don't shoot her, you don't understand, there's –”

“Relax, Ari.” Kate cut her off. “He's tried enough times in the past, why'd he succeed now? I'm even making it easy for him, look.”

She wiggled her empty fingers.

For a second, Kate caught Ariadne's eye and she thought she saw a flash of something before Kate's eyes snapped back to Arthur.

“If you're going to shoot me, just fucking shoot me already.”

“Arthur, you don't –”

“On the contrary Ariadne, I think I do.”

Arthur relaxed the set of his shoulders slightly. “But I'm going to give you thirty seconds before I do.” 

“ _Arthur_ –”

“Not the time.”

If Arthur let Kate go, they'd only have until she could disappear from sight before they're done. Even with all her guns gone, Ariadne was pretty sure Kate knew infinite ways of killing herself.

Instead, Ariadne raised her own gun, and shot Arthur.

\- - - - -

Arthur jerked awake on the hotel floor, gasping for breath. His hands immediately went to his neck, feeling for the wound, but there was nothing there.

Instead, he was back on the floor in Saito's hotel room, surrounded by the rest of the dreamers. Ariadne must have... He smiled for a second, relieved to wake up, until the flashing of the PASIV caught his eye.

If he was out, there's only going to be a couple of seconds before someone – Kate – followed him up.

Crawling across the floor, Arthur switched out Stephanie's mp3 player for his own, and pressed 'play'.

\- - - - -

Eames dropped his gun and moved instantly, catching Arthur's body before it hit the ground. He pressed his fingers against the open wound on Arthur's neck, but it was already too late.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?”

Kate barely stayed around to scream at Ariadne before grabbing Stephanie from Yusuf and pulling her out the door. Cobb followed, and Ariadne knew they wouldn't kick themselves out until they knew they were out of sight – couldn't risk being followed too quickly by the rest of them to lose their advantage – and prayed that Cobb could run fast enough.

She dropped down to her knees next to Arthur's body, and tried to get Eames’ attention.

“Don't fucking touch me.”

“It's not what it looks like. Kate, she told me, she had a plan, and the only thing, but we're still, _we're still dreaming_.”

Eames wasn't listening, instead carefully folding Arthur's collar back to cover the gaping wound.

“I wouldn't _shoot Arthur_ if I wasn't fucking _sure_.”

Ariadne shoved her hands in her pocket, searching for her totem, but she couldn't find it.

“Just give me a second, it's right –”

Something crackled in the air. Eames heard the opening strains of “Jerusalem,” and smiled.

\- - - - -

Ariadne came to on the hotel floor, trying to shake off the disorientation as fast as she could. Above her, the room was already in chaos.

Kate and Arthur were on the floor, fists and elbows flying about frantically while Stephanie and Eames stood above them, guns out. Their eyes flickered back and forth between each other and the floor, each trying to find a clear shot that woudn't risk taking out the wrong person. Yusuf was struggling to get the PASIV cleared away before it fell victim to the flailing limbs. In the corner, Cobb had his own gun drawn, guarding Saito from the mess.

Finally, something broke in the fist fight, and Kate managed to spring free and get her own gun out before anyone had a chance to blink, and now there were four guns in the room, not even counting Ariadne's own and however many Arthur – and Kate – had hidden.

The four people in the middle of the room stared at each other, and Ariadne racked her brain to try and remember what was going on outside. Saito had bodyguards, they must be somewhere, right? Even if no one had mentioned it to her, they hadn't just decided to walk into a sitution chock-full of guns and not think about how they were getting out of it, had they? Eames and Arthur were both mistrustful enough of Kate that they wouldn't have started this without a contingency plan.

Suddenly, Kate had a second gun out, and it was pointing straight at Ariadne.

She froze, not even able to pull out her own gun in response. “I...”

“I told you what would happen.”

“Leave it,” Arthur snapped. “This isn't about her.”

“Yes it fucking well is.”

Arthur's hands were technically in the air, but he didn't look like he was giving up“Put the gun down, Kate.” 

“No, I don't think I will.”

“Put it down, or I'll shoot you,” Eames said, firmly.

“Then Stephanie will shoot you.”

“Then I'll shoot Stephanie,” Cobb interrupted, “and Saito will have him airlifted to the nearest hospital before your heart's even stopped beating.”

Kate's eyes were still forward, flicking between Arthur and Ariadne. “I don't think you're going to shoot me.”

“I think you're underestimating him,” said Arthur. “You know about inception, you're too big a risk.”

“Don't know about that,” Eames grinned, “might be some nice advertising. 'Arthur and Cobb are so awesome, _even Kate_ admits they pulled off inception'.”

“But she'll tell Fischer,” pointed out Cobb.

“That is immaterial at this point,” said Saito. “At this point, news of the dissolution of the company is wide enough that an attempted roll-back would cause more trouble for Mr. Fischer then you could possibly imagine. And even so, I have no intention of reversing my influence. Kill her if you wish, but don't let that be your only reason.”

“Don't kill her,” Ariadne jumped in. “Just... don't.”

Arthur turned slightly to look at her. “She would have killed us.”

“Well, _we're_ the ones trying to ruin her job.”

“She was trying to fuck ours over in the first place. If we let them walk out of here, she's just going to do it again.”

“ _Please_.” Ariadne took a step forward. “I thought we were supposed to be the good guys.”

Arthur stiffened for a second, before exchanging a couple of glances with Eames and Cobb. None of them looked happy about it, but Eames let his arms relax slightly.

“You have five minutes to get out of here. And if you ever get in the way of one of our jobs again, I won't hesitate in shooting you.”

Kate scoffed, “I don't need your fucking pity release.”

Stephanie shoved her gun into her waistband. “Yes, we do. Thank you.”

She grabbed for Kate's arm with one had and the PASIV with the other.

“No.” Cobb took aim at the PASIV. “That stays here.”

Kate swung around to respond, but Stephanie just grabbed her arm again.

“Get a fucking move on.”

Just before she left the room, Kate caught Ariadne's eye. She looked like she wanted to say something, but whatever it was remained unspoken as she allowed Stephanie to drag her away.

The second the door clicked shut behind them, the tension in the room broke. Arthur finally let whatever injuries Kate had done him manifest and sagged against Eames' side.

“We are never going anywhere near that woman again.”

Eames laughed for a second, slightly manic, before letting his hands drift to check Arthur for serious wounds. “Agreed.”

Ariadne stayed silent, letting her legs fall out from under her as she couldn't help but keep staring at the closed door.

\- - - - -

Robert Fischer sat in the small cafe and stirred his tea quietly.

A shadow fell across his table, and he looked up. His eyes flashed instantly to his bodyguard across the room, but Ariadne just smiled slightly as she slid into the chair across from him.

“Let’s not do that, okay? You're not the only one with minders.”

Robert glanced around the cafe until his eyes fell on Eames and another strangely familiar man sitting with a perfect line of sight to both his table and the door. Eames raised his tea cup in a tiny salute and the other man rolled his eyes and continued to appear to read his newspaper.

“What do you want?”

“I wanted to see if you were okay.”

Fischer snorted. “I didn't think you cared.”

She smiled again, sadly. “Does it make a difference if I tell you none of it was my idea? I just kind of... got swept away by fascination.”

“Not particularly, no.”

There was silence for a moment, until Fischer pushed his cup aside.

“I know that to you, this was all just _a fascinating intellectual exercise_ , but this is my life, and you – all of you – ruined it.”

“We didn't ru –”

“Yes, you did. How can I just do... do _anything_ with my life now, without knowing if it's really a part of me or just something you did to make me do what you wanted me to?”

Ariadne fiddled with her napkin for a moment before looking up.

“You can't.”

“Exactly.”

Robert pushed his chair back to stand, but Ariadne laid a hand on his wrist to keep him back.

“I remember that you said that once you realised you didn't have to be the same as him, that it was the first time in your life you felt like an individual instead of a component. Look, I can't tell you what your father really wanted. And now that you're aware of what happened, you can go forward any way you want. But just because we come to conclusions the wrong way, doesn't mean they were the wrong conclusions.”

Robert didn't answer, and after a moment Ariadne set her napkin down, and left the table.

Outside, she watched as Eames and Arthur set off down the street and fell into step a couple of feet behind them.

**Author's Note:**

> Gah. So this story has been all kinds of hell to get out, because the last couple of months have been one of those times when pretty much everything just keeps happening all at once. But I finished it, eventually.
> 
> There are a couple of people I need to thank specifically. This story has it origins in one of the first plotbunnies I had after seeing _Inception_ , and way back then, [taurenova](http://taurenova.livejournal.com) was massively helpful in hammering out ideas, so even though she probably has no recollection of that, the story probably wouldn't exist without her help.
> 
> Secondly, [dialectical](http://dialectical.livejournal.com) was a complete bully, in the best possible way, totally refusing to let me give up, no matter how many times I just. Wouldn't. Stop. Complaining. She was massively helpful at all the times when I just wanted to throw my hands up and say "this scene isn't going the way I want it to, clearly this whole thing is ruined", and just very supportive in general.
> 
> Finally, both [dialectical](http://dialectical.livejournal.com) and [lindenmae](http://lindenmae.livejournal.com) were complete stars when it came to beta-ing, under pretty hard time constraints, and never once saying "for someone who loves commas so much, you'd think you'd have any idea how to use them correctly", and leaving me confident that at the very least, the story wouldn't make people cry with typos. (Any that are left are all on me, and my inability to stop editing myself, like ever.)
> 
> And my mixer, [Cerulean-Sky](http://cerulean-sky.livejournal.com), who again had to put up with my ridiculous sense of timekeeping and constant changing of mind, and didn't complain even a little bit. (Make sure to check out her work: [LJ](http://cerulean-sky.livejournal.com/395088.html) | [DW](http://cerulean-sky.dreamwidth.org/389113.html))
> 
> So thanks to them, thanks to the mods for organising inception_bang, and thanks to all of you for reading/commenting


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